


The husband who decides to surprise his wife is often very much surprised himself.

by misreall



Series: Admitting No Impediment [5]
Category: Loki: Agent of Asgard, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dub con more than non-con. Jealousy. Rough sex. Sort of D/s. Sex magic. AU of an Au., F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 06:18:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11526309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misreall/pseuds/misreall
Summary: The AU of my already AU story continues.  This story is a companion to Good Men Don't Necessarily Make Good Husbands





	The husband who decides to surprise his wife is often very much surprised himself.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caffiend](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiend/gifts).



> This is a very early birthday present for the glorious Caffiend, so she has not beta'd it and all of the mistakes are mine alone.

Nora sat and watched her husband taking part the dancing to celebrate the beginning of springtime on Vanaheim and tried not to sigh.  

 

For the forty-some years of their marriage they had come to nearly every _Varágæti_ Eve celebration on Frigga’s estate, only excepting when she had been pregnant.  And for all of those decades Nora had taken her place of honor on the edge of the field where the dancing and feasting took place, along with the rest of the family.  She accepted the traditional tributes of flowers and grain that were offered to the women.  She did the weird little blessing thing with the oak leaves that she had been taught to do whenever children approached her.  She ate.  She smiled.  

 

Nora never danced.

 

It was traditional to dance to celebrate the return of the sun, fertility, and all of the other blah-blah stuff that still meant nothing to her.  To ensure blessings on their families throughout the year the Vanir attending would ask the members of the local gentry to dance with them.  Frigga danced with the head of the local university, the chief guildswoman of the nearby town, and one or two other important figures.  Thor interspersed dances with the line of waiting maidens (and some lads) with huge mugs of ale.  Even Odin would do a quick turn around the floor with the head priestess of his wife’s temple on the years he attended.

 

Loki never took his seat.  He gamboled.  He leapt.  He lifted his partners into the air to spin.  He trioka’d and reeled and stomped and rounded, smiling and laughing all of the while.  

 

Nora sat.  

 

Not once in forty years had anyone asked her to dance.  She wasn’t sure why.  Everyone made her feel perfectly welcome otherwise.  There were all of those heaps of flowers, delicacies brought just for her.  Her goblet was certainly never dry.  But no dancing.

 

The one time she had swallowed her pride enough to ask Loki why he thought that was he had just waved a hand, saying something about how it was probably a local superstition, as she wasn’t either Aesir or Vanir, and then apologized that he could not dance with her himself.

 

She might have believed him, if it hadn’t been for the fact that she knew she saw at least a handful of non-god types in the mix every year.

 

So Nora sat.  Bored, and just maybe a little bit, if she would admit it, depressed by the whole lovely party.  Every year.

 

She had just accepted her twenty-third bundle of something that wasn’t exactly barley when she was surprised to find a dozen French tulips at her feet.  Nora picked them up, confused.  

 

“I was told they were your favorites, Your Highness.  Was my source wrong?”  Came a deep, lilting voice with a hint of amusement to it.

 

Standing before her, dressed in an elegant Italian wool suit, was the Midgardian ambassador to the still new council of Nine Worlds, Black-eye Jack Aherne, who had once called the handsomest man in Dublin.  

 

The only reason he wasn’t called that any longer was he lived in London now.

 

They had met on the day that the Council sat for the first time in their chambers on Asgard.  After the feast that night she had been sitting holding Claire on her lap, letting her teethe on her marriage necklaces, which was a sort of family tradition.

 

Jack had given her a deep bow, and then another to Claire, who giggled.  “Not dancing, Princesses?”  he had asked.  

 

Nora had shaken her head, smiling, “No.  I’ve been carrying this sack of potatoes all day, and my feet would never forgive me.”

 

“Ah, now what kind of Irish woman can’t carry a sack of potatoes all day and then dance all night?”

 

They had shared a laugh and watched the dancers for a bit, when he had spoken again, “Still, it’s a shame.  This song sounds familiar.”

 

“It is.  It’s Black Velvet Band.  The musicians are from Earth.”

 

“Ah, lovely, lovey,” he hummed a bit, and then started to sing, “‘ _Her eyes they shown like the diamonds / you’d think she was queen of the land…_ ”

 

He had a fine tenor, and Nora found herself joining him, “‘w _ith her hair it hung over her shoulder /tied up with a black velvet band.’”_

 

There had been applause from where some of the dancers had stopped to listen, including Loki.

 

“Very pretty,” he said, offering his hand to Aherne.  

 

Once he would have kissed her cheek first, Nora thought.  But it was a work night, after all.

 

Now, again, he had found her sitting out the dancing.  She looked at the flowers from home.  She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen them.

  


“They are my favorites.  Thank you.  I haven’t had tulips in a month of Sundays,” as with the few other times Nora had spoken with the man, she found all of the old Irish expressions her family had used spouting from her.  Leaving her feeling like an idiot.  “They are very beautiful.”

 

“They pale, princess, they pale.”  He had a charming, con-man smile and a way of making a compliment sound so obvious that it wasn’t really a compliment but a statement of fact.  “But.  If you do like them?  Maybe a dance as thank you?”

 

Nora felt herself blushing, which was ridiculous.  She had never been a blusher, and it seemed strange to start at nearly seventy.  “Well, the dancing is supposed to be … it’s to help the crops grow.”

 

“Oh, I know.  I know, highness.  You see I have a bit of property back on Earth, nothing much, nothing like your man and his family, but a bit of land.  And my field o’ fucks?  It’s as barren as a ninety-year old holy sister.  So will you help me out then, princess?”

 

Frigga, who had returned to her seat while they spoke gave a very un-queenly snort, “Dance with the man, daughter.  It will do you some good to stretch your legs.”

 

Nora looked longingly at the dancers.  Then she nodded, “If it’s for the good of the homeworld, how can I say no?”

 

Jack had a lovely, firm grip when he took her hand.

  


The roundelay ended.

 

Loki gave a courtly bow to his partner - a pretty, black-hair Vanir woman from the southern continent - and turned to find the next of his promised dances for the evening.  He was surprised to hear the musicians tuning up for waltz.

 

The dance had been popular for a few years after Nora and his wedding, but it was unusual to hear at an event to welcome the spring.  Lusty peasant dances were more the order of the day.  To accompany it, there was a susurrus of whispers through the crowd.

 

He turned to see what the disturbance was and found himself deeply disturbed.

 

Nora, resplendent in a simple dress of pale jade and cream, was being led onto the field for a dance.

 

Loki frowned.  He had made it quietly clear to everyone that if he was not able to dance with his wife then no one else had been ever consider doing so.

 

Then he saw who it was.

 

Jack ‘the-only-worthy-foe-in-the-Council’ Aherne.

 

Jack ‘the-nearly-but-no-not-really-nearly-as-handsome-as-Loki’ Aherne.

 

Jack ‘with-the-oh-so-pleasant-singing-voice’ Aherne.

 

And now Jack ‘holding-my-wife-in-his-arms-and-making-her-laugh’ Aherne.

 

Loki’s eyes narrowed and he gave his current partner a very rapid turn around the floor.

  


“Don’t look now, but your fella’s headed this way.  Do you think he has an eye to cut in?”  Jack whispered to her, his accent and warm breath tickling Nora’s skin.

 

“He can’t.  It’s considered bad karma or something to break with your partner early tonight.  It messes up the magic.”

 

“Ah, good.  Good.  Because I’d hate to be insulting a prince and such, and he _is_ a nice looking man, but he does nothing for me at’all.”

 

Nora snorted hard, enchanted by the image of her beautiful husband dancing with the handsome Irishman.

 

As promised, Loki did not try to cut in, but he did find a way to dance around them for the length of the waltz.  When it ended Nora was surprised that Jack managed to spirit her away to the refreshment table before her Loki could disengage with his partner.

 

“I’d ask you for another go, but I don’t know any of these space reels, and I only had enough folding money to bribe the band to play one proper piece of music from home,” Jack gave her a toothy smile and a glass of pear and wild rose cider.

 

“I’m out of practice, anyway,” she said as they slowly walked around the edge of the field, taking the long way back to her seat by silent, mutual choice.

 

“Ah, and here I thought princess and balls went together like pretty girls and flowers.  You should be dancing your slippers ragged every night.”

 

Nora shook her head, “No.  Usually if there is an occasion like that Loki and I have the first dance and then he… he needs to work the room.  You know politics.”

 

Jack gave a pleased nod, “Well, it’s good to know that the man they say is the cleverest in all the Realms is a fool just the same.”

 

Bristling, Nora turned, “And what do you mean by that, you oversized leprechaun?”

 

“Oh, that any man who would choose a night of schemes and plots over a night romancing his lovely, fiercely protecting bride is a fool’s fool.”

 

“After forty years I don’t think that I qualify as a bride anymore.”

 

Jack shook his head, “A wise man will treat his wife as his bride, his sweetheart, and his secret inamorata every bloody day.  Especially is she is a woman such as yourself.”

 

Now Nora felt herself blush.  Jack had the gift of making flattery sound like fact.

 

“Will you be attending Her Majesty’s fete tomorrow?”  She asked, changing the subject.  Nora had never been much of a flirt, even back when anyone bothered to flirt with her.

 

“Of course.  I plan to spend the day annoying you with my company under the guise of trying to trick state secrets out of you.”  He whispered closer, “Not that I would mind you giving me some, but the longer you play hard to get the longer I have an excuse to waste your time.”

  


Loki steeled his expression into a pleased smile.  Nora was laughing again.  She was leaning towards Aherne and laughing.

 

“Is something the matter, your grace?”  his little, golden-skinned partner stuttered out.

 

“Not at all, my dear.”

 

“It’s just you are squeezing my hand.  Hard.”

 

Loki stopped, “My apologies,” he said, bending to kiss the wounded fingers.

 

Nora did not notice.

  


Later Nora hummed “Black Velvet Band” to herself as she tucked Claire into bed. She had fallen asleep on the pile of flowers that had been presented to her grandmother, and it took forever to pry some of the mangled stems from her tiny hands.

 

Claire grabbed everything she could and never let go.

 

She took after her father in every way.  Except her eyes.

 

When Nora stood to leave she found Loki leaning in the doorway, his face solemn.  Normally the sight of the two of them together - especially the rare times that Claire was quiet - normally got his fullest, gentlest smile.

 

They walked together back down the hall towards the room they stayed in.

 

Loki did not take her hand or arm.

 

“You didn’t have to leave the dancing yet.  She’s out like a light.”

 

“I thought you looked tired,” he said.

 

“Yeah.  I am completely worn out by one sedate waltz.”

 

“I was thinking more of all of that unseemly laughter.  I know that this is a fertility festival, but a little decorum might be in order.”

 

Nora stopped.  She felt as if he had hit her.  In all of their year, decades, together Loki had never once faulted her for being less than regal.  Rather, he seemed to revel in the disruption she caused to the very decorum he now seemed to be in favor of.

 

The ass.

 

“Jack’s kind of -”

 

But Loki talked over her, “I recognize what he is up to, of course.  And Aherne is an excellent gamesman.  It was a good attempt at it.”

 

“At what?”  Nora narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips, not like the snarky tone that was being directed at her.

 

“Distracting me.  Or, as I said, attempting to.”

 

“Distracting you?  From _what_?  Doing the medieval jitterbug?”

 

Loki rolled his eyes, “From the negotiations coming up on the Asgardian troops we wish to billet on Midgard’s moon - yes, I know you are not in favor of it.  He is no doubt hoping that by ‘flirting’ with my wife he will put me off of my game,” he laughed.

 

“I don’t think - I mean, I think he just-”

 

“I don’t blame him, treasure,” suddenly that name didn’t seem so endearing.  “I have done similarly.”

 

“That’s funny,” Nora snapped, “he told me he was pretending to get information from me just so he would have an excuse to hang around.”

 

Loki laughed again, “He is clever player.”

 

And again, if felt like she had been hit.

 

“You should dance.  I’m going to sleep.”

  


The next day at his mother’s fete Loki was not surprised to see Aherne approach Nota.  

 

He was, however, unpleasantly surprised to see his astute wife had not taken his word to the wise and rather than avoiding the schemer she spent much of the party chatting with him while Loki was busy with the Ljósálfar guests.

 

Nor did she avoid him back on Asgard when the council was in session.

 

Or at any of the feasts over the next weeks.

 

Or at the receptions that followed Odin’s monthly court.

 

Instead, as much as possible since they shared a bed (lately for sleeping only) Loki thought that Nora was avoiding him instead.

 

Nora had taken to pulling her hair back with a bit of black ribbon when she knew Aherne was going to be about, Loki noted.

 

He hated that black-eyed-

 

No.

 

He hated, of course, that his wife was being taken advantage of and was allowing herself to be made a fool.  It was obvious that she was smarting from his ration observation of Aherne’s motives and hamfisted attempts at flirtation.

 

Sadly, Nora was choosing to be silly about the entire situation.

 

Which was why, he rationalized later after kidnapping the Midgardian ambassador and taking his place at the assignation he had overheard him making with Nora, he was doing this for her own good.

  


Nora leaned on the balcony, her ponytail and skirts blowing lightly in the breeze.

 

It was quite a romantic setting, which was unusual for Asgard.  The Continental was the first Midgardian-style hotel to open in the capitol.  Since she had become princess there had been a passion for earth culture amongst the Aesir, many of whom seemed a touch bored with the eternal part of their own realm.

 

She knew she shouldn’t be meeting Jack in his rooms like this.  Originally they had been going to visit the Royal menagerie tonight - he had never seen a griffin before - but at the last minute she had gotten an urgent note asking for the change.  She had arrived before he did, surprised by the wine and candlelight.

 

It had been so long since she had had a friend from earth that Nora was willing to put aside her worries about her reputation.  After all, even if she was a princess, she was still a person and a person could use someone they could talk to about home.  If Jack was funny, and a big flirt, and just good company then so much the better.

 

Especially since she was getting no company, or anything else from Loki lately.  He had been acting like the biggest ass in the history of hindquarters lately.  

 

Stand-offish.  Snobby.  Rude.  A prince first, a husband a distant second, and a lover not at all these days.

 

She wondered if he knew why he was acting that way.  Even if he didn’t, it was making her enjoy spending more time with Aherne.

 

“Nora,” Jack had somehow snuck up on her and was standing at her back, his chest skimming against her.

 

The feel of him so close made her body feel alert.  Hungry, even.

 

Huh.

 

She hadn’t had sex in weeks, after years and years of near daily lovemaking.  That had to be the reason.

 

Nora turned.  He didn’t back up and they were nearly touching.  She could see herself reflected in his huge, black eyes.

 

“You smell delicious, your highness.”  His voice was husky and poured like honey,  “Sweet and fiery.”

 

“Uh, thanks?  Loki makes my perfumes-”

 

“Let’s not waste time talking about your fool of a husband on such a beautiful night.”

 

She wanted to be angry, to lash out.  But she couldn’t kid herself.  She craved the desire in his gaze, the need in his voice.  This had been coming on for a long time.

 

“No, she said, “let’s not.”

 

And she kissed him.

  


Loki felt Nora press warm and willing against Jack Aherne, and in him passion mixed with misery, need with dread.  This could not be happening.

 

His loyal, strong, caring, beloved bride was choosing to throw herself into the arms of another.

 

It was a beautiful kiss, full of longing.  Her fingers tangled in Aherne’s short, brown hair the way she did with Loki’s own locks.

 

Then, she broke the kiss, but not the embrace, whispering in his ear so he trembled with both desire and nausea, “I… I thought about what you asked… about helping earth.  I never thought I would say this, but I don’t feel like this is where I belong lately.  I miss home.  So yes.  Wait here.”

 

Loki watched, sick as his treasure went into the other man’s rooms.  He poured himself an enormous glass of wine and downed it before she returned.

 

Leaning against him again, she put something into Aherne’s jacket pocket, “Loki … doesn’t talk to me the way he used to, but that information should help with your negotiations.  Just promise me you won’t let him suspect.  I’m afraid of what he might do.  He is so strange lately.”

 

Then she threw herself into Aherne’s arms, burying her face against his neck.

 

His Nora was afraid of him?  How could that be And she was -  she was-

 

She was tracing the outline of Jack Aherne’s cock through his linen pants!

 

It was a confident, comfortable, knowing touch.

 

A lover’s touch.

 

She looked at him and smiled, her eyes bright.

 

Tea-bright.

 

Bright the way they only ever were for him….

 

His mind stopped working.

 

Then Loki exploded

  


Hard hands grabbed Nora, pushing her off of Jack’s body.  Black eyes turned into brilliant green with sparks of fiery red and his body grew, legs long, shoulders broader, chest expanding, hair now spilling like india ink on a perfectly blank sheet of paper.  

 

Genial, handsome features turning splendid and magnificent and cruel.

 

Loki leered at her, still regal in the shreds of Jack’s bespoke suit, “Good evening, little wife,” he purred, his long, elegant hands now shoving her around so her back was again pressed to him, his rampant erection grinding into her.  “SInce you already fear me, you should not be surprised by what I plan for you now.”

 

He bit her ear hard enough to make her bleed, and she jerked, trying to pull free.  He let her go and off balance she fell to her knees at his feet.  He snagged a handful of hair on the top of her head and used to hold her in place while he sneered down at her, trickle of her blood on the corner of his mouth.  

 

Staring into Nora’s eyes, Loki raised his hand to his mouth and bit himself, breaking the skin.  She stopped struggling, guessing what he was doing.  

 

He spat their mingled blood into his hand and crouched to smear it on her lips, her hair still knotted in his hand.  He chanted in a sibilating in a language Nora didn’t understand but knew enough to be afraid of.  Unable to stop herself, she licked her lips, sealing the fate that she had already knew was coming.

 

Nora’s back bowed, her spine arching as what had been the shy start of arousal that she always felt around her husband turned into wildfire, her cunt spasming and flooding, her skin turning as sensitive as her clit, her clit becoming so sensitive that just the weight of her silk undergarments became unbearable, wonderful, painful.  She was barely aware when he thrust his hand between her legs until she found herself wildly humping on it, trying for any relief even as her last rational thoughts were that she knew it wasn’t possible.

 

Once, when playing with some light bed-magic Loki had told her about this spell.  The Kjærlighet er Helvete.  It was vicious and dangerous.  The subject of the spell would find themselves instantly at the edge of orgasm, an edge that would be pushed further and further, with no end, until the magician who cast it allowed them to fall over that peak.

 

There were stories of victims going mad, rending their own flesh, some even dying, before mercy was granted.  

 

Loki had threatened her with it more than once, jokingly, teasingly, and Nora had dared him every time to do it.  She had always been a little disappointed and a little relieved when he had laughed and said no.

 

As she writhed on his hand, her hair pulling tighter, Nora remembered the way the spell was ended was with a kiss.  Looking at Loki’s face, she thought there would be no kisses for her any time soon.

 

Pulling her to her feet, Loki disparated  little dress she wore while holding her perfectly still between his hands, and then too gently licked the very tips of her agonisingly hard nipples.  A high, keening noise tore out of her.  Everything felt good enough to stop her heart.  

 

Then, his eyes seeing something that made them go even colder with displeasure, he reached up and ripped the black velvet ribbon out of her hair, squeezing it in his fist until it burst into flames and he streaked his ashy hand down the side of her face, leaving trails of soot on her sweat-soaked skin.

 

Dropping into a chair and holding her across his lap, Loki crooned into her ear, his hot then cold then hot again breath feeling like fingers tracing lightly over her panties, “Shhh… shhhh… little princess, we have just started.  Save your pretty voice for when beg me to make you come.”

 

Nora turned her head, desperately trying to kiss him.  He jerked his head back, “None of that now.  Save your kisses for your lover.”

 

“You’re my only-”

 

“Here,” he covered her mouth, his fingers slipping between her lips and she sucked them, moaning at how good he tasted.  His eyes rolled back, a groan escaping him, and he slipped his other hand back between her legs, grabbing the fabric and making a fist.  There was an rip and the air on her cunt made Nora push against the wind itself.

 

Two long fingers slowly entered her, twisting back and forth.  She sucked harder, completely mindless.  She could actually feel moisture gathering in her and dripping around his hand.  When he tapped her g-spot she screamed as the need grew worse and worse.  

 

Over the roaring of the blood in her ears thought she heard Loki’s voice, but she didn’t know what he was saying.

 

Suddenly both of his hands were gone from inside of her, and Nora felt herself start to tear apart, “Please, don’t stop.  I need you-”

 

“I know,” he said.

 

Loki stood, carrying her to the table.  He kicked it over in a shower of glass and fire, the candles rolling and guttering out, and he lay her over the upright edge which bit into her hips.  The bruises felt like someone brushing her skin with velvet, utterly unbearable.  “Spread your legs,” he ordered, “let me see how wet and open you are for your husband.”

 

Eager, wild for him to fuck her, Nora spread, grinding hard on the table edge.  

 

For what seemed like ages he did not touch her, or move, or speak.  

 

Her legs started to tremble.  Sweat and fluid coated the inside of her thighs.  Her heart was beating too fast.

 

Then, from nowhere, he grabbed her hips and pulled her onto his cock, fucking so deeply into her she thought he could kill her with how good it felt.  Her cunt was one long, muscle-pulling squeeze.

 

Loki was silent but for grunting as he worked at her, the tightness making him struggle and grit his teeth, holding back his own release.  Over her own noises, most of them more animal than anything else, she could hear the streets of the city grow quieter and quieter as the night turned into morning.

 

The sound of their skin, of the thick wet rolling from her, all of it was like a drug to an addict and Nora couldn’t get enough.

 

Literally.

 

Her arms lashed out, grabbing the legs of the table, trying to get enough leverage to slam onto him harder.

 

Pushing her legs wider apart, her body pivoting, he pulled her up so she was barely held in place by the table, the edge now grating on her eager clit.

 

As he fucked her, he spoke, his voice intense and strained, “You are mine.  Our fates were sealed when we met and neither of us will ever be free.  I will follow you from life to life.  I will hunt you to the end of all things if you think to ever elude me.  I may have forgotten for a moment, in my lunacy and idiotic distraction, that you are all things to me, but I will never forget again.  And I will make certain that you will always remember who you belong to.  Who belongs to you.”  

 

“I know, I know,” she chanted over and over.  “I love you, I love you so much.”

 

He froze.  She tried to work herself on him, needing anything, the lack of friction making everything worse.  

 

Abruptly he pulled out of her and turned her in his arms, staring down at her face, his own contorted with misery.  Trying to still herself for a second, even as too much pleasure coursed through her like a rain-flooded river topping over its banks, Nora touched Loki face and gave him a weak smile.  “I said I love you,” she gasped out, waiting for him to answer her.

 

A small sound left him.  Still holding her as she sagged, boneless and worn, her body jerking with need, Loki righted the table and lay her carefully on it.  He pressed a hand to her breastbone, his cock teasing her entrance.  “I love you, treasure,” he said, sliding himself home as he lifted his hand, letting the strength of the spasm of pleasure she felt jerk her upright into his arms.

 

And Loki kissed her.

  


Afterwards, as Nora lay trying to breath, her body still shuddering with pleasure, her mind obliterated, Loki poured over her with remorse.  

 

Tenderly he carried her to the bed and checked her body, kissing her bruises with the lightest touch of his lips, using the small healing seidr he possessed to soothe her, checking every where to be sure he hadn’t injured her too much.  He wiped her face clean, hissing when she winced when he touched the wound on her ear.

 

Nora would never admit it to him, but she adored it when he fussed over her.  Treating her as if she was fragile and precious.

 

Of course, anyone else acting that way she would bite.

 

Finally, certain he had not harmed her, he sat on the edge of the bed, his cock amazingly half-risen again.  He ran his hands through his hair over and over again, a look of anguish on his face.

 

“Nora… Nora ...I … what led you to betray me is my own fault.  It has to be.  You are so loyal, so good.   But you have betrayed Asgard as well, even if it is to the benefit of your home world.  How could you?”

 

He fell to his knees and clutched her hand.

 

“I will protect you from Odin’s wrath, whatever the cost, but you must tell me what secrets you have imparted to … Aherne so that I can prepare.”

 

There were tears in his eyes.

 

Nora’s heart ached at the sight of his perfect face contorted in pain.  “Get the note I gave you,” she managed to rasp out, her voice nearly gone.

 

For a moment he hesitated, mouth suddenly tight with anger, then he stalked to the ruined remnants of Jack’s suit, his glorious ass tight with rage.  

 

In the jacket pocket he found Nora’s secret information.

 

“Read it.”

 

Hands shaking, he unfolded the it.

 

_Dear Loki-_

 

_You are an utter moron, but I love you anyway,_

 

_Nora_

  


The sight of his face made her laugh weakly, every sore muscle screaming as she snorted and pointed.

 

“How did you know?”  he asked, his face blank and slack-jawed with astonishment.

 

“You touched me, you ass.  Did you really think I wouldn’t know you?”

 

“And you…. You…”

 

He was bowed over with the power of his laugh.  He tried to stop, couldn’t, and went on until weak and red-faced he collapsed still shaking beside her.  He clutched her hand and they both stared that ceiling, each smiling a different smile.

 

“You are truly wonderful, my mischievous, devious treasure.”

 

“I learned from the best,” Nora rolled onto her side and kissed his temple, then frowned, “Hey, what did happen to Jack?”

 

Loki bit his lip, “Oh, yes… that might be a problem.”

  


The Asgardian troops were less comfortable on Mars than Midgard’s Moon, but Prince Loki personally donated his personal wine cellar to make conditions more comfortable for them.

  
  
  
  



End file.
